


A Different Sort of Vows

by The_Plaid_Slytherin



Category: Original Work
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25758850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/pseuds/The_Plaid_Slytherin
Summary: When Rendan is pulled from the cloister by his uncle and forced to marry, he never expects to.... actually be attracted to his husband.
Relationships: Male Priest Being Forced To Give Up His Vows To Marry For Political Reasons/His Husband, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 10
Kudos: 71
Collections: Original Works Opportunity 2020





	A Different Sort of Vows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hyx_Sydin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyx_Sydin/gifts).



"Hurry it up; they won't wait all day."

Rendan slid his fingers along his beads, lips moving through the Circuit. He would not be rushed through his prayers, even as his uncle paced. 

"You didn't even want to go to the temple," he said. "You should be glad I got you out." 

Unhurried, Renden gathered the beads and tucked them away. "Perhaps I grew to like it, had you considered that?"

"No." Uncle Hagr consulted his pocket watch. "It doesn't exactly matter, does it?" 

"No, I suppose it doesn't." Briefly, Rendan wondered what it would have been like to have a family that loved him and wanted the best for him, but he'd long since accepted that was not his lot in life. He'd thought his lot in life would be to serve the gods, but that had not been in the stars either. 

He could not believe it had been only two weeks ago that he'd been in residence at Full Moon Temple. Rendan had been preparing to lead vespers when an acolyte had appeared in his study to alert him to his uncle's arrival. Hagr had looked uncomfortable seated in the waiting room for the unconsecrated. Rendan recalled from his childhood that his uncle had never been an observant man. 

Which perhaps made it all the more ironic he'd dumped Rendan at the temple as soon as he'd turned thirteen. 

"What do you want?" Even years of temple training and taking his vows had not made Rendan so forgiving he could receive his uncle with grace. 

"Your family needs you," Hagr had said. And then he'd outlined this ridiculous plan. 

And now Rendan was walking through the chapel, like a lamb led to the slaughter.

** 

Artos braced up, hands behind his back as his betrothed approached. He looked rather grim, perhaps even more grim than Artos felt. He glanced at Master von Imrich. Artos hadn't liked the merchant from the moment he laid eyes on him and the feeling was confirmed by the way he seemed to be treating his nephew. Artos was the opposite of a religious man, but even he knew it was wrong to pull a priest out of a respite temple and make him marry. Priests of the Faith, especially those at respite temples were married to one of the gods. At least, it went something like that—they certainly weren't supposed to be pulled out of temples to marry scarred old soldiers. 

Rendan was handsome, he had to admit it, though he felt wrong having such thoughts about a priest.

Not a priest, he reminded himself. My husband to be.

Rendan looked as though he were being led to his own execution. He did not smile or even look at Artos when Hagr von Imrich placed his hand in Artos's. Artos had to admit it was a ridiculous tradition, especially given the circumstances: von Imrich could hardly be said to be giving Rendan away when he'd given him to the Faith all those years ago. 

And then von Imrich was stepping away, leaving one very dour looking bridegroom and the priest advancing on them. 

**

Rendan managed to maintain his composure through the ceremony and the feast. His new husband didn't partake of the drink or the dancing, which suited Rendan jus fine. He did not feel like doing either. He ate one serving of dinner, and when his husband stood up, he followed. 

"If you do not wish to consummate the marriage, I won't push you." 

"Thank you." A weight was suddenly lifted from Rendan's shoulders. He gave a wary glance up at his husband. Artos. That was his first name. Artos, Lord Morren.

It was raining when they left Von Imrich Manor, and a servant held an umbrella over their heads as they dashed for their waiting coach. Rendan noticed that Artos didn't exactly dash, per se. He walked with a slight limp and Rendan slowed his pace instinctively to match his. 

"The rain," Artos explained as he swung into the carriage and reached for Rendan's hand. "It makes it ache some."

"You were at the border, during the wars." 

"I was." 

"May Shimra's blessing be upon you." 

"It only bothers me sometimes," he explained. Rendan couldn't see his expression as the coach moved out of the streetlights. There was a leaden pause. "Was that your goddess? Shimra?" 

"Yes." 

"I'm sorry." 

Rendan bit his lip. He didn't know how to process the idea that Artos might be sorry—sorry for him? Sorry for marrying him? Sorry that any of this had happened. "So am I."

"I didn't ask for this," Artos said slowly. Rendan wondered if he found it easier to talk in the dark like this. "I never expected to inherit, nor did I ask for my father to, er…"

"Be so deep in debt to my uncle?" 

"Indeed."

"And I was the only one he had left to marry off." Rendan sighed. "He didn't really have me at all, in truth."

"That's what I'm sorry about. It wasn't right what happened to you."

"Nor to you."

Artos made a noise that might have been a sigh or the verbal equivalent of a shrug. "I wasn't exactly beating suitors off with a stick." 

Rendan found he wanted to say more, but Artos had turned himself away such that Rendan supposed the conversation was over.

**

Artos tried to give Rendan space. It ought to have been easy to do—he was used to life alone in the big manor house without him; surely it would be easy to go on pretending he wasn't there. And initially, Rendan made himself easy to forget. 

They ate separately and Rendan stayed in his rooms most of the time. When Rendan wasn't in his rooms, Artos stayed in his own rooms, so that Rendan wouldn't have to encounter him. He gradually became used to his husband's daily rhythms: prayers, meals, and trips to the library seemed to make up the chief part of it. 

At least, he thought he had those rhythms memorized until he opened the library door to find Rendan curled in an armchair, reading a book.

"Forgive me." Artos bowed formally. It seemed like the right thing to do to bow to Rendan. He could easily imagine him as a scholarly priest, not one of the ones who told Artos he'd somehow brought his wounds on himself for some unspecified immorality. 

"You can stay," Rendan said, closing his book. "It's your house."

"It's our house. More than big enough to share."

He took up his book and sat in his own armchair. Rendan made no move to rise. They were within ten feet of each other, closer than they'd been since they'd been in the coach.

Artos gave him a wary glance and found Rendan watching him just as cautiously.

"I'll go," he said.

"No, don't. We're in this together, aren't we? Might as well be friends."

"Might as well," Artos agreed. He opened his book, and they said nothing for the rest of the afternoon.

**

Reading silently together in the library became a near-daily occurrence. And it soon came to drive Rendan mad. 

Artos was avoiding him. He'd liked this at first, had needed the space to get used to the idea of being married. To get used to the idea of life outside the temple again. To remember that once, he'd been a young boy who had expected to have this kind of life—he'd only been thirteen when he'd been sent away, but that had been old enough to imagine a life much like this: marriage to a lord of some large estate. 

"I was thinking of going into the village," he told Artos one afternoon during their library session. "I want to meet the temple priest, at least, and see some of the tenants." 

Artos looked surprised, and for a moment Rendan thought he might refuse. No, he reminded himself, he was not that kind of man. He knew that much about him so far. 

"I'll take you," Artos said finally. "You should be with me when you meet them."

"I would like that," he said, smiling. Artos looked quickly away. 

Yes, that was the most frustrating part. Either Artos wanted nothing to do with him, or… he felt some ridiculous guilt about attempting to seduce a priest. Rendan thought which one seemed more likely and smiled to himself. If Artos wouldn't seduce _him_ , there was only one way about it.

**

It was a pleasant day, fresh after a morning rain when they set out. Artos was struck by a sudden guilt that he hadn't ridden out to meet his tenants in a long time. He hadn't ridden anywhere in a long time. 

And they did seem surprised to see him, having only seen their lord going to and fro in his dark coach. He tried to smile at people and greet them pleasantly, but he could see immediately that Rendan more than made up for any of his deficiencies. 

He had a natural way with people, able to talk to grumpy old farmers and young children alike. Artos had worried about meeting with the village priest, that it might arouse some feelings of jealousy or sadness in Rendan, but if he felt at all wistful, he didn't show it. 

He decided to mention it, just to see Rendan's reaction. 

"This is my life now," he said matter-of-factly. "I'm your husband, and that carries with it certain duties." 

Ah, so it was about duty. That made sense. 

Rendan took Artos's hand, though, and they made the rest of their circuit of the village holding hands. 

**

Daily rides about the estate had been added to their daily routine, and Rendan relished them just as much as he did their afternoons in the library or the meals they'd begun taking together. 

But, he realized, if he didn't take matters into his own hands, nothing would ever happen. 

Usually, their rides were no more taxing than a trot, but today, when they reached the wide field, Rendan urged his mount into a gallop. It only took a moment for Artos to do the same and they were racing neck and neck. So he was right when he'd suspected that this sort of thing was what Artos had been used to do. He fell into it easily enough, and the expression on his face was closer to alive than Rendan had ever seen him. 

They eventually slowed, and that exhilarated expression didn't leave Artos's face.

"Thank you," he said, dismounting, "for allowing me to relive some of my reckless youth."

Rendan dismounted gratefully; it would be much easier to do what he meant to do if they were both off horseback. "I never had a reckless youth; thank you for allowing me to make up for it now."

Artos sat on a large flat rock with the ease of one who has done just that many times. Rendan found himself obsessed by figuring out his husband's habits and tendencies. 

"Is there anything you'd like to do? Anything you always secretly wanted to do that was forbidden a priest? I'd let you do anything that's within my means to fund." 

_Fuck my husband_ , he thought, but decided that might be too bold. 

"Travel," he said. "If you're interested, I'd like to see some of the world."

"Well, it wouldn't have to be with me."

"I wouldn't want to go without you." 

Artos looked suddenly caught off guard; two spots of color appeared on his cheeks. "You don't have to—"

"I want to." He reached for Artos's hand. "I took my vows seriously. I am your husband now, and I do not wish to be parted from you." 

"I thought…" Artos sighed. "I thought maybe you were just indulging me. I mean, going about in the village together is something we have to do and this—I thought maybe you just wanted someone with you."

"I do. You." There was nothing to do now but kiss him; Rendan was tired of talking. 

Their first kiss was clumsy and clearly provoked quite a bit of surprise in Artos. Their second was more refined, as Artos's hand came up to grasp the back of Rendan's neck. Their third was hungry and full of heat, and after that, Rendan lost track. 

The sun was sinking toward the horizon when they finally rode back to the house. 

"I'm sure there'll be gossip in the servant's hall," Artos grumbled. 

"Gossip about what, exactly? Newlyweds behaving like newlyweds?" 

Artos gave him a wry smile. "We haven't exactly behaved like the most normal of newlyweds." 

"Well, then," Rendan said briskly, "we'll simply have to start now. Make up for lost time." 

Artos laughed and kissed him. Rendan had very high hopes for tonight


End file.
